


wait for the water

by windychimes



Category: Bastion
Genre: F/M, teeth rottingly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windychimes/pseuds/windychimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zia and the Kid weather a storm together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wait for the water

**Author's Note:**

> a super belated birthday present to my homesheep tumblr user ziakid, with special thanks to tumblr user distressedgravy for the idea

It hasn’t started raining yet but already the sky is turning dark. Big grey clouds roll in and the wind picks up, blowing through their clothes and ruffling their hair. Zia brushes her bangs from her eyes and looks up to the sky. A droplet of rain hits her on the forehead and she sighs. “I hate storms.”

“Looks like a big one,” Rucks comments, watching the sky. “Should get inside ‘fore it gets bad.”

“Think there’s gonna be lightning?” The Kid asks, fists clenching and unclenching. His sign of nervousness. Zia watches him, head tilting to the side; is he scared? She doubts it. The Kid is never scared.

“Looks like it,” Rucks says. “Best be gettin’ everything covered while we still can.”

They go around the Bastion, picking up pillows and books and other trinkets lying around. Zia watches the Kid, gauging his reaction; he’s calmer now, but she’s still curious about his earlier response. Does he hate storms much as she does? She finds it unlikely. Storms are scary, but the Kid isn’t scared of anything. He fights the world on a regular basis; there’s no way he’s scared. But still, she wonders.

By the time the storm comes everything has been put away. Zulf’s carrying the stockpot down to the kitchen when the first drops fall. By the time he’s all the way up the stairs and out in the open, it’s pouring. They all hurry off to their own tents, but Zia hesitates in front of hers; she watches the Kid run into his and thinks about following him. He keeps everyone safe, so maybe he’ll keep her safe tonight. No, that’s a foolish idea. She’s an adult, and adults aren’t afraid of storms. She’ll just sit and wait in her tent for it to pass and everything will be fine. She dealt with storms alone as a child, she can deal with them alone as an adult.

The rain comes down in a torrential downfall and Zia holds her plush Pyth close to her chest. Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles outside and she takes in a deep, shuddering breath. It’s just a storm, it’s just a storm, there’s nothing to be afraid of. A roll of thunder rings out overhead and Zia whimpers, clutching her plush Pyth tighter and burying her face in its head. Maybe… maybe she should go see the Kid. He’ll keep her safe, he keeps everyone safe. He’ll wait out the storm with her and he won’t laugh or make fun of her. He’ll just sit there with her, silent, understanding, and it will be fine. But she doesn’t want to run to him. She wants to be an adult, a real adult, and deal with everything by herself. That’s what adults do, isn’t it? Adults don’t need anyone else, just themselves. She did it enough as a child, she can do it now. But maybe, maybe… maybe now that she has friends, she doesn’t have to do it all by herself. Maybe now she can rely on other people. It’s a nice idea, at the very least. Zia stands and takes a deep breath. It’s fine if she goes to see the Kid. Adults accept help when they need it, right? Zulf and Rucks certainly go to the Kid for help; why can’t she? Putting down her plush Pyth, she marches to her tent door and steps outside.

And immediately wishes she was back inside. The rain falls down in buckets, instantly soaking her to the bone. Lightning clashes in the distance, illuminating the dark clouds overhead. She wants to run back inside, but she’s already out of her tent, so she might as well keep going. It’s better to be soaking wet with someone else than soaking wet alone. Heading over to the Kid’s tent, she stops when she hears her name called out.

“Zia!” She turns around and the Kid comes running up her. “You okay?”

Zia bites back the automatic reply of, “I’m fine.” She’s not fine, that’s why she’s going to see him, but she still has to fight back the urge to reassure him. “Well… not really.”

The Kid’s eyes go wide. “Something happen? You hurt?”

Zia smiles. This is why she’s going to see him; no one cares quite like he does. “No, no. I’m just… I’m scared. I don’t like storms.”

The Kid breathes a sigh of relief. “Thought something was really wrong. Need me to do something?”

“Well… I was wondering if, if I could spend time with you. I… I feel safe with you.” Zia looks away to hide her burning cheeks. That sounds so stupid and cheesy. But it’s true, and the Kid won’t laugh at her, so it’s not so bad.

“’Course.” The Kid takes her hand and gives her a smile so bright it outshines the storm. “Let’s go to the kitchen. Can start a fire there, keep warm.”

Zia stares down at their hands and nods, her voice leaving her. Wow. Holding hands. She never thought she’d do that with the Kid. Not that she’s ever thought about holding his hand or anything. Definitely not. He leads her down to the kitchen and Zia follows him and tries to will away the burning of her cheeks. It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean anything, stop thinking about it. The Kid isn’t making a big a deal about, so neither should she. At least, she thinks he isn’t making a big deal out of it; it’s still hard to read the Kid even after all this time. She gives herself a moment to pretend their hand holding means something but quickly drops it when he lets go of her hand. He goes to grab firewood and Zia busies herself with setting up the oven. When she’s done, she pulls off her bracers and jacket, setting them on the counter. She takes off her bandana and undoes her braid, doing her best to wring out the excess water from her hair. The Kid comes back, arms full of firewood, and sets it in stove. He starts a fire and steps back, a grin on his face.

“There. Should be good now. Stay nice and warm.”

They strip off their boots and sit in front of the fire. There’s a moment of silence, and then the Kid asks, “What scares you about storms?”

“It’s the thunder,” Zia answers. She draws her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “When I was little there was a thunderstorm and I didn’t know what it was. My father wasn’t home so he couldn’t tell me. It sounded like someone was pounding on the door… I thought it was the Marshals coming to take me away.” Zia smiles weakly. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

The Kid shakes his head. “Not stupid. Didn’t know what it was, ‘course it was scary.” He wraps his arm around her shoulders and smiles. “I’m here now, I’ll keep you safe.”

Zia hides her face in her knees. “Thanks,” she whispers, and pretends she isn’t blushing. They fall into silence after that, a comforting silence they’re used to, a comforting silence they treasure, and Zia rests her head on him. They watch the fire together, almost lulled to sleep by it, but Zia snaps awake when there’s a deafening clap of thunder overhead. She startles and clings to the Kid, a whimper leaving her lips.

The Kid pulls her into a hug, rubbing her back and shushing her. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

“Sorry,” Zia mumbles, still holding onto him even after the thunder has subsided, “it’s still so scary.”

“I’m here now. Nothing bad can happen. I’ll protect you from everything.”

It’s a stupid thing to do, a really stupid thing, but Zia kisses him. There’s such a safety with him, such a comfort. The Kid is like a stone, strong, solid, never faltering. She’s safe with him, always safe with him, and she never wants to let him go. He doesn’t kiss back, and Zia pulls her head back, sheepish, and looks away, unable to meet his gaze.

“What was that about?” The Kid asks, eyebrows raised.

“I… I really like you,” Zia mumbles, her cheeks burning all over again. She bites her lip. “I feel safe with you, and happy. I know it was stupid to kiss you, but…” She shrugs. “I just wanted to.”

The Kid goes quiet and Zia looks to the kitchen door. Maybe she should just go back to her tent. He’s not going want to keep her safe after this; he’s not going to want to do anything with her after this. How could she be so stupid? Before she can get up and leave, the Kid puts his hands on her shoulder.

“Wanna try that again. Wasn’t ready the first time.” He cups her cheek and gently moves her head so they’re looking into each other’s eyes. “Really like you, too. Can I kiss you?”

Zia doesn’t answer and instead kisses him again, her eyes fluttering shut when she presses her lips to his. She wishes she knew more about kissing; all she knows it’s the lip-to-lip contact part, but she’s sure there’s more. But it doesn’t seem like the Kid is any more knowledgeable, and she feels a little better for that. They can learn together. She heard the other girls at school mention something about using tongue, but that seems far too advanced for her right now, and she’s happy just to be touching the Kid. He pulls his head back, a dopey smile on his face, and whispers, “That was… that was nice. Liked that.”

“Me too,” Zia whispers back, afraid to break the moment by raising her voice. “Do you want to do it again?”

“Yeah,” the Kid breathes, and he kisses her again, taking her by the shoulders and gently pressing her back so they’re lying on the floor. They tangle their fingers in each other’s hair, holding tightly, clinging to comfort. They kiss for a long time, kiss until they’re too breathless to do anything but pant against each other’s mouths. The Kid lets go of her hair to cup her cheek, running his thumb across it. “How’re you feeling now? Still scared?”

Zia nuzzles her face to his chest and smiles. “Not at all.”

He kisses the top of her head and nuzzles his face to it. “Good. I’m not feeling scared anymore, either.”

Zia looks up at him. “You were scared? I thought you weren’t scared of anything.”

The Kid shakes his head. “Scared of lots of stuff. Don’t like lightning, always afraid it’s gonna hit me. But I gotta be brave for everyone, so I act like I’m not. But with you… don’t feel scared of anything at all. Feel brave, a real kind of brave, like I’m not just puttin’ on an act.”

Zia nuzzles her face back his chest. The Kid being scared… it never occurred to her that someone big and tough like him could be scared. But with the Skyway, and all the scary things waiting out there for him, all the danger, it makes sense. But he had a lot to do; he doesn’t have time to be scared. Zia kisses his chest and says, “I’m glad I can help you feel brave. We can be brave together.”

The Kid laughs and gives her a squeeze. “Like that idea. Let’s be brave together.” He pauses a moment to listen and says, “Sounds like the storm is over. You wanna go up?”

Zia shakes her head. “I’d rather stay here,” she yawns. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” the Kid replies, returning her yawn. “Go up in the morning.”

“Sounds good to me,” Zia murmurs, closing her eyes. “Goodnight, Kid.”

“G’night, Zia,” the Kid returns, and they fall asleep like that, curled up together, still damp from the earlier rain, safe from the storm and all the other dangers of the outside world, the fire crackling away in front of them. It’s Zulf who finds them the next morning, still curled up together, the fire in front of them on its last embers. Zulf shakes his head and goes to get a blanket, draping it over their sleeping forms when he comes back. They don’t stir.

“It’s about time,” he mumbles to himself.

Zia is the first to wake, surprisingly. The Kid is usually up at the crack of dawn. She thinks about moving, about waking him up, they both have a lot to do, but instead she kisses his chest and drifts back to sleep. The world is out there waiting, a scary place, a wonderful place, and it’s time to get back into their daily routine, but right now all she wants is to stay in the Kid’s warm, safe arms, and right now, that’s all she’s going to do.


End file.
